Release date: February 26, 2024
Subgenre: Paranormal Romance
About Witch Mirror:
Reflections of a wicked witch.
Bryce and I are trying to revive Alondra’s old metaphysical history class. We’re in college again, this time teaching. But it’s stressful under our former teacher’s shadow. Not only that, there’s a new demon-witch messing with my love life. So I’m going through that again. Well, at least this time I have Alondra’s magic to protect me.
Actually, not only do I have her magic, her spirit is inside me, possessing me. But don’t worry, Alondra’s ghost is a positive force here to help Hawthorne. I mean…are you good, Alondra?
A witch council is gathering at my house to reflect on ways to save us. They’re convinced Alondra is evil, but Alondra and I are unsure they know what they’re doing. Well, if I can’t hold things together—inside and outside of myself—I fear my plans of finishing graduate school at Hawthorne U. and starting a family are going to shatter.
Bryce and I are trying to revive Alondra’s old metaphysical history class. We’re in college again, this time teaching. But it’s stressful under our former teacher’s shadow. Not only that, there’s a new demon-witch messing with my love life. So I’m going through that again. Well, at least this time I have Alondra’s magic to protect me.
Actually, not only do I have her magic, her spirit is inside me, possessing me. But don’t worry, Alondra’s ghost is a positive force here to help Hawthorne. I mean…are you good, Alondra?
A witch council is gathering at my house to reflect on ways to save us. They’re convinced Alondra is evil, but Alondra and I are unsure they know what they’re doing. Well, if I can’t hold things together—inside and outside of myself—I fear my plans of finishing graduate school at Hawthorne U. and starting a family are going to shatter.
Excerpt:
Bryce stops his old gray BMW before a rickety old wooden bridge. He has to drive slowly so we don’t dive through the wooden planks and crash into the water below. The bridge is not much wider than his car. I hate seeing this bridge again. Not only is it always a legitimate danger to our lives, it was sort of the beginning of the Samhain Witch’s freak show. But I don’t hate Geneva Forest. All these trees are like home. Of course, as if the broken-down bridge weren’t bad enough, at the end of the bridge is a wall of white fog. That looks hellishly ominous, too, like we’re going to be swallowed by the white smoke after we cross over. Mira’s black van is behind us. We wait for her and, like last Halloween, she’s probably more worried than Bryce about falling through the wooden boards with her heavier van.
“She’s here,” says Afreyea, seated behind me, in her thick accent. That freaks me out. Gala is sitting beside her. “You feel her?”
“No,” Bryce grunts, but it actually sounds more like he’s saying “yes.”
Flakes of ice start hitting the windshield. Snow? In mid-March? What the hell? Isn’t all this weird enough? There’s not a cloud in the sky.
“It could totally be Hansel and Gretel, you know, Bryce,” I say. “She could be luring us inside to eat us.”
“I don’t see candy,” Bryce says, shaking his head. “That house, if you remember, was more like a fly-infested dung heap.”
“Beelzebub,” says Gala.
“Huh?” I ask.
“Beelzebub,” Gala repeats in her Romanian accent. “Lord of the flies.”
O-k-a-y. You know, these witches are supposed to protect us, right? We’re supposed to have a full-on witch showdown and kick some witch ass. So why does Gala sound scared? Then, to make it worse, Afreyea is whispering. At first, I thought she was muttering something about Beelzebub. No, she’s chanting an incantation in another language.
Ice now covers our windshield, and Bryce has to slow the car to a crawl and run his windshield wipers.
A rush of water splashes my passenger window and makes me jump. Did Bryce drive over a puddle? No, he has almost stopped. Is this the start of black magic shit?
I look back and see something I wish I hadn’t. Afreyea’s eyes are wide open. Apparently, the water splashing scared her.
“She’s here,” Afreyea says. “Brought your book, Cadence?”
Uh, I sure did.
“We end this now, Aurora,” Gala says. “We finally end this, sister.”
“She’s here,” says Afreyea, seated behind me, in her thick accent. That freaks me out. Gala is sitting beside her. “You feel her?”
“No,” Bryce grunts, but it actually sounds more like he’s saying “yes.”
Flakes of ice start hitting the windshield. Snow? In mid-March? What the hell? Isn’t all this weird enough? There’s not a cloud in the sky.
“It could totally be Hansel and Gretel, you know, Bryce,” I say. “She could be luring us inside to eat us.”
“I don’t see candy,” Bryce says, shaking his head. “That house, if you remember, was more like a fly-infested dung heap.”
“Beelzebub,” says Gala.
“Huh?” I ask.
“Beelzebub,” Gala repeats in her Romanian accent. “Lord of the flies.”
O-k-a-y. You know, these witches are supposed to protect us, right? We’re supposed to have a full-on witch showdown and kick some witch ass. So why does Gala sound scared? Then, to make it worse, Afreyea is whispering. At first, I thought she was muttering something about Beelzebub. No, she’s chanting an incantation in another language.
Ice now covers our windshield, and Bryce has to slow the car to a crawl and run his windshield wipers.
A rush of water splashes my passenger window and makes me jump. Did Bryce drive over a puddle? No, he has almost stopped. Is this the start of black magic shit?
I look back and see something I wish I hadn’t. Afreyea’s eyes are wide open. Apparently, the water splashing scared her.
“She’s here,” Afreyea says. “Brought your book, Cadence?”
Uh, I sure did.
“We end this now, Aurora,” Gala says. “We finally end this, sister.”
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About A.L. Hawke:
A.L. Hawke lives in Southern California torching the
midnight candle over lovers against a backdrop of machines, nymphs, magic,
spice and mayhem. With a medical science background, the author specializes in
romantic fantasy and science fiction.
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